


Demons at the Gate

by junko



Series: Senbonzakura's Song [35]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:19:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2451056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji has just settled in for the night with some beer and some porn when he's interrupted by a frantic guard reporting that someone is at the Division's gate demanding entrance...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demons at the Gate

With two bottles of beer in his hands, Renji identified himself to the gate guard. Expecting the doors to open instantly, he bounced off the closed door, nearly dropping one of the bottles. “What the…?”

“How do we know you’re not an imposter?”

Renji stepped back and squinted up at the gate guard who’d spoken. Even shrouded in moonlight, it could only be one person. “Rikichi, I’m never letting you have the gate again if you don’t stop reading those science fiction novels! No one is a fucking pod person.”

The doors creaked open.

As he walked through, Renji glanced up at where Rikichi waved apologetically. Renji shook his head, but smiled. At least the security would be tight tonight. He might be a grade-A doofus, but Rikichi never fell asleep on the job or let someone strange to him through. Some day, that little goofball was going to save all their asses. 

It wouldn’t be the first time, Renji thought. He resolved to take the kid out to lunch or something. Digging through the pockets of his hakama to count his remaining ken, he amended: next pay day.

A quick dash across the quad, bottles clinking in the quiet night air, and Renji stood in front of his quarters. Slipping off his sandals, he slid open the door. He fumbled around in the unfamiliar space, nearly knocking over the lamp in his attempts get the light on. 

He nearly turned it off again. 

Even though Renji’d cleaned up Seichi’s mess last time he was here, the room looked so tiny and shabby compared to… what he was getting used to, he supposed.

That thought made him frown. Especially when he remembered how huge and gorgeous and wonderful and clean everything looked when he first left Inuzuri; hell, even just coming here after the Eleventh. 

Now he looked at his old cot, wondering how the hell he’d keep from rolling off it.

He glanced over his shoulder, at where, if the door wasn’t shut, he’d’ve seen the estate. Probably Byakuya and his ex were still talking; it’d be hours yet before they thought about sleep. Still, Renji couldn’t help but be disappointed that there was no waiting butterfly or note, asking him to come up and make the bed seem not so big and lonely.

Maybe it’d still come.

In the meantime, he changed out of his uniform that smelled faintly of a combination of ramen, sweat, and Ikkaku’s blood… and some of his own. Yeah, that was for the laundry now, Renji thought as he tossed it into the corner he reserved for dirty clothes. Since his favorite yukata had migrated up to the estate some time ago, it took Renji a few minutes to find something suitable to wear to bed. An extra shitagi would have to do. 

He’d go naked if it wasn’t so cold.

In fact, speaking of that, he dug out the winter blanket from the bottom of his footlocker and spread it over the bed. It wasn’t like the comforters Byakuya had, but it was quilted. There was a patchwork design on the top, made from fabric scraps. He’d bought it ages ago off a vendor one particularly cold winter with the winnings from a game of Hanafuda. He hadn’t played; he never learned how, but he’d bet on the right guy—gal, actually. Matsumoto had swept the place with them that night. Renji remembered because it was the first time he really met her, in the flesh, as it were--and there was a lot of that, which was very distracting, but not so distracting that he missed how whip-smart she was.

 _Plus, we told you to watch the ca_ t, Zabimaru muttered.

 _Cats are always clever_ , grumbled the snake-tail.

“You going to take credit for all my insights, ever?” Renji asked out loud, as he glanced at the zanpakutō he’d set on the cot when he’d undressed. “I do occasionally have a thought or two all my own, you know.”

There was only snorting laughter in response. 

Renji thought about telling that demonic hunk of metal that he was happier when they kept their opinions to themselves, but he knew that was a great, big lie. So, he just sank down on the cot beside Zabimaru and reached under the bed for the porn manga. After finding what looked like a good one with a bunch of short stories in it, he fluffed up his pillow, snuggled under the quilt and blankets, and popped the cork on the beer.

He’d nearly finished the book when the sound of frantic, pounding feet had Renji reaching for a fresh pair of hakama and Zabimaru. By the time the feet arrived at his door, Renji had the hakama ties in his mouth, but his uniform was mostly on. “Lieutenant, we have a problem at the front gate.”

Renji made a fast knot and shouldered open the door to see a panting guard… Tabito? “What is it? It better be serious; I’m off-duty.”

“It is. Very,” Tabito paled. “Captain Kyōraku is demanding entrance and… uh, he’s drunk, sir.”

Drunk Kyōraku? Oh, holy fuck. Not bothering to slide Zabimaru into his belt, Renji stomped into his sandals and headed in the direction of the gate, Tabito hot on his heels “And, Rikichi kept him out? That kid is braver than I thought. Way braver. I’m going to have to give him a medal or something--if he survives.”

Kyōraku’s voice had lost its usual jovialness and he was starting to sound irritated as he bellowed, “You’re very amusing, child, but I’ve had enough of your ridiculous twenty questions.” His voice slurred as he added, “I’ve proven myself and I said I have business here!”

Renji flashed up the stairs to take a stand behind Rikichi. Renji could feel that Rikichi had triggered the kidō barrier; no wonder Kyōraku was ticked off. Renji slung the sheathed Zabimaru over his shoulder, as he asked, “These ain’t exactly the usual business hours, Taicho.”

“Ah, Mr. Renji, my boy! I didn’t expect you to be around. But, if you’re here, then let’s call it pleasure, shall we?” 

Kyōraku really was unsteady on his feet. Just tilting his hat back to look up at Renji had caused him to stumble a little. 

Cripes. What had put Kyōraku in this state? And what the fuck would they do if he decided to go bankai on their asses? Or even shikai… _Everything_ was in shadow.  Everything.

“Yeah, let’s make it pleasure,” Renji said, making a sudden decision. “Why don’t you let me take you over the road for a nice, hot oden, eh, sir? We can talk about your business there.”

Swaying as he glanced over his shoulder, Kyōraku seemed to peer at the row of shops for a while. Then, he shrugged, with a tisk, he said: “I could use another drink.”

Renji let out a breath of relief. He tucked Zabimaru away. A nod at Rikichi had the kidō barrier dropping enough for Renji to leap over the wall to land beside Kyōraku. 

“You didn’t expect me to be around, eh?” Renji said as he offered an arm to Kyōraku. Kyōraku took a shoulder instead, and leaned heavily on it. If this was a show, it was a damn convincing one, Renji thought, especially given the sour, alcoholic stench this close up. “And you know Byakuya’s busy with family. I got my lowest seated officer on the gate. I bet you thought our twentieth would be a pushover, eh? You planning a raid on us for real, Captain?”

Kyōraku just chortled one of his loud, belly laughs. “And everyone says you’re such a moron. Ah, how they underestimate you!” His words slurred, but his eyes twinkled brightly, “Do tell me how it is my cunning plan failed, would you? Why aren’t you tucked up where you’re supposed to be—all tangled up in your lover’s silk sheets?” He was wasted enough the last words came out sounding more like ‘slick sheiks.”

Renji started to explain, but stopped himself. “Oi, none of that now, we’re the injured party here. How about you pony up what you thought you were doing, eh, sir?” 

They’d gotten across the street. It’d taken longer than it should’ve, what with all the weaving. The landlady held open the door for the two of them, having no doubt heard the commotion. Renji gave her a grateful nod as she directed them to a quiet, back part of the bar. He knew her well. This particular izakaya had rooms upstairs that the Division rented for the sole purpose of having them available to any officer of the Sixth who stumbled back after curfew; any officer willing to have Renji fetch them in the morning, that was. The good news was, the landlady was used to running a tab for Renji.

Once they’d lowered Kyōraku onto the floor and gotten him one of those little back rests, so he didn’t fall over, Renji ordered big bowls of stew for them. With the landlady out of earshot, Renji leaned across the table and whispered. “Seriously, Captain, what could possibly be so important you’d risk starting a war with my captain? What do we even have that you’d want? Oh. Shit, of course. You were after Daisuke, weren’t you?”

Kyōraku looked annoyed to have been sussed out so quickly. With a sigh, he said, “I will never, ever listen to what people say about you again. Mr. Renji. You’re far cleverer than anyone knows. Does Mr. Byakuya know what he has in you? You should really ask for a raise, my boy.”

The landlady deposited a bottle for them and two bowls. Kyōraku reached for it, greedily. More sake? But, shit, it was already too late. Clumsy hands still managed quick work of the bottle. Before Renji could say no, Kyōraku had it open and was pouring. 

“Shall we raise a toast?” Kyōraku smiled, offering Renji a bowl. “Here’s to you, Mr. Renji, for shaving me from myself.”

‘Shaving’ him from what now? He must have meant ‘saving’ but it still didn’t make any sense. Renji joined in the toast, anyway, since it seemed rude not to. “No offense, sir, but what were you thinking? Most thieves don’t announce themselves at the gate.”

“Thief?” Kyōraku laughed. Waving off the idea with a sloppy hand. “I’m far worse than that! Anyway, I had no intention of stealing the boy. I was going to borrow Daisuke and take what I needed. I’d have given him back to you in no time.”

Renji paled a little, ‘taken what he needed…?’ 

“Ah, don’t look at me like that, Mr. Renji, my boy. I’d’ve taken nothing so precious as what you’re thinking, just his tongue.”

“Just his…” Renji started to repeat, but he couldn’t finish it. His mouth hung open. Did Kyōraku really mean that? Had he come to cut out Daisuke’s tongue? For real? Renji guessed that was maybe what you did to ‘retired’ spies back in the stone age, but fuck….

Kyōraku’s cup sloshed accusingly in Renji’s direction, “Now you look just like Jūshirō.” He made a disparaging noise. “I’ve told him a hundred thousand times. I’m not evil, just necessary.”

 _They tip their hand, the demons do_ , Zabimaru hissed. _A slit throat is the most silent of all_.

The Baboon King grunted his agreement. _A carved out tongue is a message to others._

 _So, you think maybe we have more than just Daisuke as a spy in our ranks?_ Renji surmised. _Great._

“Sorry to have wrecked your plans for you,” Renji said, completely unapologetically. 

Kyōraku looked startled and then started to laugh. The landlady returned with a big steaming bowl of oden for each of them. The soy-flavored broth smelled slightly sweet and instead of the usual fishcake, Renji thought he smelled dried mackerel flakes. Large slices of daikon and tofu floated in the dark, rich broth. 

“You don’t think much of me, do you, Mr. Renji?” Kyōraku asked, after they’d slurped up half their stew. 

“Actually, I do,” Renji said, crunching down a radish “I got a lot of respect for you, sir. Which is why I think you’re a lying sack of shit. Don’t tell me my gate guard, brave little moron that his is, is what stopped you from shadow jumping Daisuke and making off with his tongue or whatever the hell you really wanted. I don’t see you as the kind of guy that hesitates to take the shot. I heard about the fight in Fake Karakura Town. Your partner wouldn’t kill a kid, but you did. That don’t sound to me like a guy who wouldn’t get a job done that needed doing.”

Kyōraku smiled broadly, “Mr. Renji, you sound an awful lot like you’re trying to talk me into finishing the job. Do you mean to?”

“Nah, I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“Heh. Good luck, my boy,” Kyōraku laughed. “When you find out, do tell me.”

As they continued eating, Renji decided that Kyōraku had probably already told him what he wanted to know, anyway. What had he said? Don’t look at me like that, Jūshirō already had? Captain Ukitake must have gotten wind of this ‘plan’ and told Kyōraku what he thought of it. Whatever his lover had said, it must have bothered Kyōraku enough for him to sabotage himself, by getting drunk, for real, for once—too drunk to do the job right.

His lover told him ‘no.’ Kyōraku said ‘fuck you,’ went out to do it, anyway, and shot himself in his foot. 

Damn if that didn’t sound like something Renji would do.

And everything almost nearly made sense this way. “You want me to send a butterfly to Captain Ukitake?” Renji asked. “Or you guys still fighting? You could sleep it off here, free of charge, you know.”

Kyōraku waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “What are you suggesting, Mr. Renji? You know I find you very attractive. I remember kissing you once.”

Renji laughed a little and raised his hands, particularly since Kyōraku seemed ready to crawl across the table and lay a wet one on him, “You mistake, Captain. I ain’t asking you to be no rent boy. I’m saying we got the rooms already paid for--the Division does, to keep our guys out of the drunk tank. So, you could use one if you want. You know, if you can’t go home.”

Kyōraku seemed to hesitate at the idea. “Why are you being so generous… especially now that you know why I was here? Are you going to slit my throat in the night?”

“Oh, you mean, because you were going to knock on my door and fuck up someone I swore to protect?” Kyōraku’s eyes went wide, but he nodded. Renji shrugged. “You didn’t do it, though, did you, sir? Good enough for me. Besides, I think maybe I owe Captain Ukitake one.”

Sitting back with a sort of disappointed huff, Kyōraku sighed. “Damn him, anyway.”

He’d been sounding far more sober, but Kyōraku’s words slurred tiredly again. His eyes unfocused and Renji thought he might pass out. “Besides,” Renji said kindly. “I don’t think you can make it anywhere in this condition.”

“Mm,” Kyōraku agreed.

It wasn’t long until with the help of the door bouncer, Renji got Captain Kyōraku tucked into a bed. After making arrangements with the landlady to have everything paid for, Renji adjusted his uniform. Turning, he headed for the estate. He was going to have to talk to Byakuya about this right away. 

Even if it meant awkwardly interrupting the ‘date’ with the ex.

#

Eishirō didn’t want to let Renji in. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Renji said calmly, leaning an arm on the frame of the servant’s door at the kitchen entrance, looking down at the house steward’s narrow, pinched face, “But it ain’t that. I’m not here to break them up or nothing. This is serious Division business. We had a captain at our gates. One meaning us harm. I can’t let this wait until the morning, Eishirō.”

“Oh, I see,” Eishirō nodded, but he continued to hesitate. “You’re sure it can’t wait?”

Why? What was going on upstairs? “No,” Renji said, standing up straighter. “It really can’t.”

“Stay here,” Eishirō said. “I’ll return for you, if his lordship agrees.”

“I ain’t staying put,” Renji said. When Eishirō looked horrified, Renji raised his hands, “I should check in with the captain of the bodyguards. This concerns her, too. So, you know, you can come find me there if the captain okays the meeting.”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

 _But, if he doesn’t_ , Renji thought as he headed off to the bodyguard’s offices, _I’m going to know Byakuya’s up to no good._ Because this much running interference was already ticking Renji off, big time—it smacked way too much of Byakuya having told Eishirō to block Renji, like he didn’t trust Renji to leave them alone, or worse, like he was maybe planning on doing some mischief with the ex.

Renji was willing to believe it was the former…. For now.

#

By the time Renji had reached the bodyguard’s barracks and offices, he’d become convinced Byakuya didn’t trust him not to crash his little party with the ex. It was typical Byakuya, wasn’t it? Always expecting Renji to act like an animal; thinking he’d have to come piss on his territory or something belligerent like that.

Well, Renji had had plans for a quiet evening in, damn it. It wasn’t his fault Kyōraku decided to show up at the door.

The evening shift of the bodyguards was a lot busier than it was at the division. The captain herself was even on duty. “It’s because of all the families,” she explained when Renji expressed surprise to see her keeping such late hours. “We’re on high alert with this many Kuchiki in one place.”

It made sense. “I’m sorry to add to your load,” Renji said, “But you’re going to have to make sure someone is watching Daisuke.” When the captain opened her mouth, looking ready to say it was impossible with the staff already overloaded, Renji cut her off, “We thwarted a high-level assassination attempt tonight. Or, near-mutilation, but you get the point.” 

Renji decided not to explain it was a sloppy attempt with almost zero true intent. She didn’t need to know that, and, anyway, Kyōraku could sober up at any point and decide to try again—or order someone else to do it. Supposedly he had a division… though Renji had hardly ever met anyone from it.

“High-level?” the captain of the bodyguard repeated.

“Yeah, there might not be much any of us can do,” Renji said. “Just be on the look out. It’s going to come from inside the Gotei. Make sure you know any shinigami that approaches him.”

The captain frowned. “We can’t defend against shinigami. We don’t have that kind of firepower.”

“I know,” Renji said sympathetically. “I’m not expecting miracles. Just do what you can to keep Daisuke sequestered and out of sight for now, I think. That should minimize his risk.”

Whatever else the bodyguard captain might have said was interrupted by the commotion of startled cries and people dropping to their knees. For a brief moment, before he’d quite realized what was happening, Renji stood staring as Byakuya strode into the barracks. Byakuya had clearly come from something semi-formal. He wore the kenseikan, but had on a more casual deep-blue yukata, decorated with a yellow, lily-like flowers. When their eyes met, Renji quickly dropped to one knee and bowed his head with the rest.

“What is the meaning of all this?” Byakuya demanded. “What’s happened?”

Without lifting his head, Renji reported, “Captain Kyōraku attempted to breach the front gate, sir. He was repelled, but it was uncovered that he had intentions to… uh, cut out Daisuke’s tongue.”

A horrified murmur rippled through the bodyguards. 

Byakuya was silent for several moments. Byakuya’s stockinged feet came to stand in Renji’s field of vision. “You repelled Captain Kyōraku yourself, Renji?”

The disbelief was obvious. But, to be fair, Renji would probably doubt Byakuya if the situation was reversed. “No, sir. He was delayed at the gate by our Twentieth Seat. I only… redirected him.” Renji glanced up. “He was pretty drunk. I mean, really, sir, not just his usual… whatever. But, the threat was real, in my opinion. I wouldn’t have disturbed your evening otherwise, Taicho.”

A ghost of a smile flitted across Byakuya’s face before he schooled his expression. “I’m grateful for your diligence, Lieutenant. Come. Brief me in the study.”

“Yes, sir,” Renji said, standing to follow Byakuya out.

**Author's Note:**

> More coming soon. It was getting long, so I cut it here for the moment. Food porn not nearly as bad as last time, I hope!
> 
> Thanks to Josey (cestus) as always for help with the typos, etc.


End file.
